One Day In Midsummer
by gossip stone
Summary: But she also knew that for regular humans like her, what happened after death was uncertain.


Disclaimer: I do not own _Avatar: The Last Airbender._

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><p>The wind jostled her hair, playing with it and tangling it up in its warm embrace. The sun kissed her face as she glanced up shyly to look at the boy with the grey eyes gazing at her, his palm resting lightly in her overturned hand.<p>

The brown-haired girl ran a slender finger over the lines etched into the boy's flesh, the calluses developed from shielding himself from bright, licking flames and sharp, flying rocks standing up and blocking her path. She wondered, not for the first time, what his life had been like before he had embarked on this journey. He would tell her, often, of his father figure, and occasionally of the great castle-like monasteries situated on the highest mountains in the largest mountain chains. She wondered these things, but she didn't ask.

She knew he thought the same about her; what was it like growing up with her brother and grandmother, did she miss her father, did she ever do anything for fun? Most of her stories about growing up, she realized with some consternation, always seemed to revolve around her taking care of someone, be it her father, her brother, the tribe, or her grandmother. Penguin sledding with this strange boy had been the most exciting thing she had done-at that point in time- in several years.

"What was it like?" she found herself blurting out before she could help herself. She smashed the serene silence deftly, causing him to glance quizzically at her and for her face to flush. He obviously, despite all his other supernatural powers, could not read minds, and she hadn't left much clue as to what she was talking about.

"Growing up, I mean," she amended softly, her chin tucking down into her neck out of embarrassment. "You… You talk about it, but sometimes it seems like you're holding back."

The boy considered this for a moment before drawing his knees up to his chest, his chin on top of them. She waited patiently, watching the wind play in the grass and the bright orange and deep red flowers growing in the field around them. Earlier, she had, almost absentmindedly, woven a small wreath of them, and then- flirtatiously, if she asked herself- placed them upon his head.

"It was…" he began, faltering. She looked up, away from where her fingers were twined in the thick grass. He swallowed nervously, the sound magnified about a thousand times in the still air. "It was just like everybody else's, I guess."

"But who is everybody else?" she pressed.

He stared at her, confused. She didn't know where her sudden urgency was coming from, but she was suddenly painfully aware of how little time left they had to themselves. Already his teachers were calling him to practice with them, to prepare him, and she wasn't seeing nearly as much of him as she had gotten used to, back in the beginning where it was only her, him, and her brother.

"It was… The same as everybody else's in the temple. I had a guardian. He took care of me, probably better than anyone else would have been able to. It was peaceful. Until…"

Noticing the way his face clouded, she only nodded. She knew where that until was going, and she didn't want him to relive those painful memories.

"What about yours?"

She started; and then, remembering their conversation, recollected her childhood. It had been full of horror, but there had been some good times, especially before her mother had died. But even after that…

"There was this one time," she said slowly, still getting the image to form completely in her mind, "when I was about nine or so. Do you know what the aurora australis are?"

He nodded, and she went on. "I don't know why, but one of the only ones I remember is…"

She could feel the sting of the frigid air on her cheek as she described it to him. Even bundled up in all her layers of clothing as she was, she shook in the night air. Her father pointed to the midnight sky, the thick bands of color wrapping around it. The bright pinks offset the milder greens, the stars sparkling behind it. The last time she had been out to see the lights was with her mother, shortly before her death. "Look, darling," the woman had said, grabbing her underneath her armpits and lifting her to her slim shoulders. "They say these lights are the spirits of our loved ones, now departed from this Earth, that come back from the Spirit World to watch over us. See? That one's your grandmother, my mother."

She felt a pressure behind her eyes, then, and before she knew it, she was crying. Her breath came in gasps, her nose running, and shame welled up in her chest. Her brother was watching her out of the corner of his eye, and she knew sooner or later he would begin making fun of her.

Instead, he offered her one of his gloves. "Blow," he instructed. After she had done this, he merely stuffed the snot-covered garment in his pocket, informed her that she would have to do his laundry tomorrow, and strode off.

The boy across from her grinned. "He's a lot nicer than he wants to be."

In spite of herself, she smiled. "He really is…" her voice trailed off at the look on his face. "What?"

"Do you really think it's true? About the lights?"

"I… I don't know. Part of me wants to think so, but… I remember after my mother died, I went out there. I just talked to the sky, and I know it's stupid, but I expected it to give me a sign, or… or _something_! But it didn't, and I just left. I got mad. I told myself she wasn't up there, looking over me, that she was in the ground, rotting away."

He looked aghast at her confession. "You can't think that way!"

"And why not?" she demanded. "I love my mother, but when do mortals even go to the Spirit World? Has anybody even documented that?"

She could tell by the look on his face that he thought her to be acting like her brother, and in truth, she knew it as well. But she also knew that for regular humans like her, what happened after death was uncertain. It was as shrouded as the body of the dead was, something only known by the dead themselves.

"Listen to me," he entreated her softly. "The monks… They said that there is a place after death. For everyone. And I doubt your mother had power enough to send you a signal that she was watching you, anyway. Hardly any of the high-ranking spirits have any power outside of their own realm."

She pinched her nose in between her thumb and forefinger, closing her brilliant eyes shut tight. Of course he was right, but she had still hoped-

"I didn't know her," he said hesitantly, making her open her eyes. "But I'm sure your mother loved you very much. At least, she would have been a fool not to. And she did want to contact you. She just couldn't."

She smiled.

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><p><strong>End Note: <strong>Just some random WAFF that popped into my head. Probably doesn't flow very well, but I'll let it slide. I wanted to address the issue of regular people's "afterlives", so to speak, as I haven't seen it brought up in fanfiction, nor in the show itself. We see a lot of reincarnation stuff, but I have yet to see afterlife. I didn't want to apply it to their relationship, though, so Katara's mother was instead a proxy.

Also, believe it or not, I am fairly neutral to the shipping war. I used to be a hardcore Kataanger, but now I'm just chill. If it's canon, I ship it. I can't waste my time or energy on silly things like that.

As always, reviews appreciated.


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